<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>i have this dream where i'm screaming underwater by chonkytheslur</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253199">i have this dream where i'm screaming underwater</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/chonkytheslur/pseuds/chonkytheslur'>chonkytheslur</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(sort of), Angst, Character Study, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Getting Together, Ginny Weasley-centric, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hopeful Ending, Love Confessions, Mental Breakdown, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-War, she's traumatized your honor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:13:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253199</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/chonkytheslur/pseuds/chonkytheslur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny Weasley was falling apart.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i have this dream where i'm screaming underwater</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i wrote this to break out of my writer's block and it immediately turned angsty as hell... i'm not even sorry lmao. i think i needed to get this out; hopefully it resonates with one of you as well.</p><p>title is from funeral by phoebe bridgers. to give you more of a glimpse into what's going on in my brain at the moment, the lyric that immediately follows the title is "while my friends are waving from the shore"</p><p>trigger warnings in the tags</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ginny Weasley was falling apart. </p><p> </p><p>Flying had always been her method of escape, the <em> one </em>thing she had that reminded her life was worth living. The rush of the wind in her hair and the feeling of speeding on a broom was invigorating. That was how it had been before, at least.</p><p> </p><p>She tried to go flying two weeks into her last year of Hogwarts, and couldn’t last more than ten minutes. The adrenaline rush she had grown so familiar with had turned stale and empty. It seemed that Quidditch - or Ginny - was broken.</p><p> </p><p>Still, she needed <em> something </em>to turn to: she simply had to try something else.</p><p> </p><p>Hermione had thrown herself desperately into schoolwork and career prep, which seemed to be working for her. Ginny tried to do the same, but every time she sat down to do her work, the words swam before her eyes and she found herself heaving in the bathroom, struggling to breathe.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna figure it out,” she stared bitterly in the mirror, wiping the tears off her face. She was shaking so hard it was a wonder she didn’t fall over, but she never did. A few cosmetic charms and a half-hearted pep talk were enough to push her out the doors and back to her blank assignments.</p><p> </p><p>Once she stopped seeing her dead brother everywhere, she could stop drilling herself into the ground. Maybe her spirals could point upwards instead. The only solution she could think of was to continue on her search for an outlet, a distraction.</p><p> </p><p>Her next course of action was to copy Harry, who seemed to have found a hobby that was both creative and productive.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that hard to do?” Ginny asked, peering over his shoulder. He rapidly snapped his sketchbook shut, swiveling to look at Ginny with wide eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Um, drawing?” he coughed awkwardly. His hands were rested protectively over its cover, as if she was going to snatch it. Considering she <em> had </em>done so with his creepy Potions book in fifth year, she couldn’t blame him.</p><p> </p><p>Ginny rolled her eyes. “No, acting weird and suspicious even though I’ve already seen like half of the sketches in there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Piss off. You want to start drawing or something?” he said, solidifying the fact that Ginny was now going to have to commit to this.</p><p> </p><p>She bit her lip. “I want to try?”</p><p> </p><p>And so he let her borrow his pencils, and they would sit together in the common room with only the crackle of the fire and the sound of pencil against parchment to break the silence.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s calming,” Harry explained. “It helps me breathe.”</p><p> </p><p>The problem with drawing, however, was that it gave Ginny’s brain too much room. It was an opportunity for her to get lost in her thoughts, until she found herself in that fucking bathroom again, staring at the same dirty, shitty mirror. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think this is for me,” Ginny said after a week, causing Harry to look up from his landscape painting. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s alright,” he said, not pushing for an explanation.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s suffocating,” she continued anyway.</p><p> </p><p>He only nodded in response, ducking his head down in that awkward way he always did because he was terrible with emotions. “If you ever want to just break shit,” he said after a few minutes. “I know a place.”</p><p> </p><p>She grinned, and ruffled his hair before retreating to her dormitory. The idea was certainly appealing; maybe this time, something would stick.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>She took him up on his offer a few days later. “Harry,” she declared loudly at breakfast. “I want to destroy shit.”</p><p> </p><p>Ignoring the alarmed look on Hermione’s face, Harry met her with a wild grin. “Let’s go.”</p><p> </p><p>“Now?”</p><p> </p><p>He stood, haphazardly shoving away his toast. “Fuck it. Yeah.” Seamus and Dean trailed behind, much to her amusement.</p><p> </p><p>He led them down into a corridor in the dungeons until they were all facing a gray wall. “I came here a lot during fifth year,” he explained quietly. “There aren’t really any classrooms or portraits down here, so as long as you don’t do any lasting damage, the staff doesn’t care.”</p><p> </p><p>He took a piece of parchment from his pocket, tore it up into several pieces, then transfigured them into several ceramic plates. </p><p> </p><p>“You go first.” He handed one to Ginny. Without a moment of hesitation, she hurled it at the wall. With a <em> crash, </em>it shattered and the broken shards dusted onto the ground. Something in her chest tightened, constricted by the snake wrapping itself around her lungs.</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t do well with loud sounds anymore.</p><p> </p><p>“Another one.” Her voice was unrecognizable, but she kept her eyes trained on the wall. </p><p> </p><p>She threw the next one with more force, relishing the feeling of the ceramic crashing into the wall and joining the broken shards below. They were sharp enough to draw blood, but Ginny couldn’t - <em> wouldn’t </em>- test that. </p><p> </p><p>“Give me another one,” she said again, voice wobbling. She was vaguely aware of the other three warily hovering at a distance several feet behind her.</p><p> </p><p>None of this was enough to stop the mantra in her head, the tightening of her throat: <em> it’s not working, it’s not working, make it </em> stop<em>, please.  </em></p><p> </p><p>The snake around her chest squeezed, and squeezed, and-</p><p> </p><p><em>“Reducto!” </em>she screamed, and a red light ricocheted off the cobblestone with a deafening noise like a gong. Ginny didn’t realize she was still screaming until Harry took the wand from her hand and wrapped her in a tight embrace, murmuring comforting words in her ear.</p><p> </p><p>She stepped back, chest heaving. There were tears in her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Dean was staring at her with what looked like fear; Seamus looked resigned, as if he had been in her spot before and knew to let the anger run its course. Perhaps it never finished running its course. Maybe it would stay lodged inside of her heart forever, and she would rot from the inside out.</p><p> </p><p>She couldn’t breathe.</p><p> </p><p>“I… I have to go,” she said before running down the corridor. Her feet carried her up to the Astronomy Tower before she realized what she was doing.</p><p> </p><p>The air was cold, biting into her skin. She gasped for air, feeling a sharp piercing in her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. Her hands fell onto the ledge of the tower and her elbows clanged painfully against the stone as her body weight fell onto it.</p><p> </p><p>“Ginny?”</p><p> </p><p>She turned around. Luna was standing at the top of the stairs, staring at Ginny fearfully. Her eyes were wide, wider than normal, flitting between Ginny’s face and the edge of the tower.</p><p> </p><p>Something terrible occurred to Ginny.</p><p> </p><p>“Luna I’m not - I wasn’t -” she stepped hastily away from the edge, stumbling slightly. <em> I wasn’t going to jump.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Ginny…” she said cautiously. She reached forward, as if trying not to spook an animal, and gently grabbed her hand. Ginny slumped down the wall, coming to rest in a seated position with her knees folded up.</p><p> </p><p>“I just don’t know what to do, Luna,” Ginny said thickly. “I’m trying everything I can think of, and nothing’s <em> working. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh dear,” Luna murmured quietly, then maneuvered Ginny so she was leaning against Luna’s shoulder. “Sometimes things don’t work the way you expect them to.”</p><p> </p><p>Ginny burrowed her face in her friend’s shirt and heaved ugly, loud sobs. “How do you do it?” she sniffed. </p><p> </p><p>Luna hummed softly despite everything, somehow knowing exactly what Ginny was trying to say. Luna had often been met with confusion at her aloof positivity despite the many horrors she had faced. “I used to be quite angry after my mother died, you know,” she said. Her face, bathed in the moonlight, took on an eerie glow. “but I realized she had never really left, not really. I know you think your passions are gone, Ginny. Or your happiness. But it’s all right there…” </p><p> </p><p>Ginny clutched Luna’s shirt tighter. </p><p> </p><p>They sat in silence, the only sounds being the whoosh of the breeze and the occasional distant hoot of an owl. The sky, inky black and dotted with stars, was the oddest mixture of freeing and stifling. Underneath it all was the smell of Luna’s hair, sweet and citrusy. Ginny took in a breath.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s this buzzing in my head,” she said softly. She was still trembling slightly, although part of it was from the cold. “It never really shuts up. But when I’m with you… it’s quiet. My mind is calmer.”</p><p> </p><p>She kept her eyes fixed on the moon, although she knew Luna was staring down at her. Her heart was a rapid march in her chest, steady and loud and <em> real. </em> “I’ve been in love with you for forever, Luna.”</p><p> </p><p>She wondered if Luna could hear the sound of her heart. Then, she thought: maybe it didn’t matter, because she was finally being truthful.</p><p> </p><p>There was a slight pressure on her cheek, warm and soft on the wetness where her tears hadn’t yet dried. Ginny turned her head to be faced with familiar pale blue eyes, filled with tears. When Luna kissed her, it felt like something was finally sliding into place. </p><p> </p><p>“I thought you knew that I loved you,” Luna whispered when she pulled back. </p><p> </p><p>Ginny laughed, and for once it wasn’t forced. The cool breeze of the night was hugging her, holding her in place, and she was filled with wonder at this beautiful girl who found it in herself to be happy in a world filled with tragedy. “I guess the Nargles were keeping it from me.”</p><p> </p><p>Luna nodded sagely. “That’s a good bet. Daddy’s sending me more Spectrespecs tomorrow, I can give you one.”</p><p> </p><p>Ginny’s hand slid into Luna’s and she squeezed once, twice. “That would be lovely.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Something was still missing, so Ginny continued searching.</p><p> </p><p>She’d considered briefly that Luna was what she had been looking for, but Luna immediately shot down that notion. “It’s <em> within </em>you. It can’t be external,” she’d insisted, and Ginny believed her - she had always been the wise one.</p><p> </p><p>Despite the relative progress she thought she was making however, Ginny had broken the mirror in her bathroom after a particularly violent anxiety attack. Hermione had found her on the floor, wordlessly helped her into bed, and then fixed the mirror.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t a surprise then, when Hermione pulled her aside after breakfast the next morning. “I’m worried about you,” she said frankly. It was a deadly skill she had learned after the war: the ability to cut to the chase. “I can help you find a Mind Healer, you know…”</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes briefly flitted to the undereye bags on Ginny’s face. It wasn’t intentional, but Ginny knew what she was thinking because she’d thought it herself this morning. They were dark purple, hanging down from her eyes like shadows. They’d been like that for months, the difference was, this morning she hadn’t bothered covering them with cosmetic charms.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m alright, Hermione,” she said instinctively. </p><p> </p><p>Hermione shot her a look. </p><p> </p><p>A pause. </p><p> </p><p>“You already picked one out for me, didn’t you,” Ginny sighed. For a moment, Hermione’s obvious concern morphed into amusement.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, fine,” she said, knowing there was no use fighting Hermione when she was on a mission. “I’ll go.” </p><p> </p><p>Hermione beamed. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Luna had begun taking Ginny on dates to search for various magical creatures. Her current fixation was Gulping Plimpies, and so they walked hand-in-hand around the grounds while Luna murmured funny spells that Ginny had never heard before. </p><p> </p><p>“Never change, Luna,” she said, watching her girlfriend light up in excitement whenever the tracking spells apparently brought promising news.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so close to finding one,” Luna announced, pausing momentarily to place a kiss on Ginny’s cheek.</p><p> </p><p>Ginny found her eyes wandering back to the Quidditch locker room, where her broomstick lay within. Years ago, it had taken her hundreds of trips to the shed in secret before she mastered flying on her brothers’ old brooms. It might take her a few hundred more to learn again; she realized in this moment that she would always be given the chance to start over. </p><p> </p><p>The wounds on her wrists were healing, and she was beginning to think the ones in her mind could as well.</p><p> </p><p>From a few feet away, Luna’s laugh rang through the air.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>kudos and comments are worth more than gold!</p><p>find me on tumblr: <a href="https://biginnyweasley.tumblr.com/post/638272419213328384/i-have-this-dream-where-im-screaming-underwater/">main</a> or <a href="https://milfpansyparkinson.tumblr.com/">femslash blog</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>